“If not for us hooking up, Hardwick Designs wouldn’t be on Okada’s radar at all. So I haven’t lost anything, because I never truly had it.”
“I thought you were a smart businesswoman.” He looked at her as impassively as a bug. “Apparently I was wrong.”
That stung. “Apparently I was too. About a lot of things.”
“You don’t know what’s really going on. You only have half of the story.”
“Doesn’t matter. I never knew what was going on with you and that’s the way I’ll leave it—as clueless about who you really are as I was when we met months ago.”
“You know who I am.”
“No, I don’t. Is this where you promise to explain everything to me if I just trust you?”
“Is this where you storm off?” he countered. “And expect me to run after you with apologies and explanations?”
Another direct hit. “When have you ever done that?”
“Every single time we’ve had a problem,” he bit off.
“Wrong. And it’s just another example that we’ve never seen things the same way.”
“That’s because you only see what you want to see.”
Goddammit, she wouldn’t cry in front of this man. She grabbed the door handle.
“You don’t get to walk out on me, Amery.”
“Watch me.”
“I mean it,” he warned. “Don’t you walk out that door.”
Amery turned and looked at him, her heart heavy, her nerves shot, feeling as though part of her world had caved in. But she didn’t cave in. She met his golden-eyed gaze with as much dispassion as she could muster. “Or what? Are you going to tie me up to make me stay?”
Raw vulnerability flashed in his eyes and he flinched as if she’d slapped him.
Don’t fall for it; next he’ll close himself off like he always does.
Then it happened, the mask dropped back into place.
“That’s what I thought. Don’t bother running after me with the excuses you consider apologies or offering more lies masquerading as explanations because we’re done this time. Done.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Ronin
The door slammed hard enough to rattle the glass.
Ronin remained frozen in place as if staring at the door would make her walk back through it.
Go after her.
But his feet didn’t move even when everything inside him was screaming at him to chase her down, and yes—tie her up if he had to. She had to listen to him. He had to make her understand. . . .
Why you lied to her? You brought her into this f**ked-up family situation without any warning—that is all on you.
He was such a cruel, arrogant bastard. Twisting her words around and forcing her to defend herself because he had no other offensive position.
So go after her.
It wasn’t pride that kept him in place but fear. Debilitating fear. His years of defensive training tamped down anything resembling real emotion as the don’t show fear mantra he’d lived by his entire life echoed in his head until he felt as if it would explode.
Find the eye of the storm and center yourself against it.
Ronin counted to sixty.
No change. His rage still fought to get free.
Again. Look deeper for the calm.
He counted off sixty more clicks on the clock.
Then sixty more.
And sixty more after that.
When he reached the three hundred mark, he’d lost any semblance of control.
Ronin picked up the closest chair and hurled it against the window. Glass shattered and the wall shook from the force of impact. But the explosion of sound quieted the fury that’d overtaken him.
Good. He’d found a coping mechanism. He grabbed another chair and threw it into the wall. Harder than before. It bounced off the counter, sending the coffeepot crashing to the floor.
He’d reached for the next chair when the door behind him opened.
Knox said, “Jesus, Ronin. What is going on?”
“Get. The. Fuck. Out.”
The next thing he knew, Knox had broken his grip on the chair and had shoved him against the wall, wrapping his hand around Ronin’s neck in a submission hold.
For once, Ronin didn’t bother to fight back.
Knox snarled, “There’s nothing to see here,” to someone who’d entered the room. “Get back to class and shut the goddamn door.”
Normally Ronin would worry that one of his students had seen his loss of control, but right now he didn’t give a shit.
After the door closed, Knox hissed, “What the f**k is wrong with you?”
“If you ever want to use this hand again, you’ll remove it from my throat right f**king now, Shihan,” Ronin snarled.
“Convince me you won’t go on a rampage, Sensei, and I’ll back off.”
“I can’t. So why don’t you just beat the hell out of me?” Ronin grabbed Knox’s wrist, forcing more pressure against his own throat. “And you’d better make it count because I won’t go down quietly.”
Knox didn’t back off. In fact, he increased his choke hold. “Don’t tempt me. But since I know your preferred method of dealing with pain is to get the shit kicked out of yourself, I’m gonna pass.” He let go of Ronin and stepped back, but blocked him against the wall. “The better torture for you is to make you talk. So what happened?”
“Amery.”
“What about her?”
“She walked out.”
“Why?”
“She found out . . .” Jesus, he needed to get some modicum of control. He inhaled and let the air out slowly. “My sister set up a private meeting with Amery and revealed my family connections to Okada Foods.”
“Your sister is here in Denver?”
“Apparently. I’d like to wring her neck. Send her back to Japan with a clear message for my grandfather.”
Knox opened his mouth. Shut it.
“What?”
“You’re blaming your sister for Amery leaving?”
“Who else am I supposed to blame?”
Knox raised his eyebrows. “Yourself? Since you should’ve told Amery months ago about your family? Then it wouldn’t have been such a huge shock.”
“Fuck off.” Ronin jammed his hand through his hair, dislodging the elastic band holding it back. “For three and a half years I’ve refused any direct contact with my family’s business. Three and a half years,” he repeated. “And the first time I tried to do something to help someone, they immediately start meddling in my goddamn life again.”